Daily Prayer

Wednesday, 31 January 2007

Paul writes - I came across the following short essay last year. It resonated with a conversation I’d had with a minister friend in the city I work in. It highlights the challenges of both church (about how we are church) and those of leadership.

Rev. Lisa Domke talks about her decision to leave her role as an ordained Presbyterian minister.Hers in not an uncommon dilemma. Both for those who serve as ministers within congregations, and those who wrestle with whether to offer themselves for ordination, or to serve full-time within a church context.

A related statement I’ve always remembered was Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones’ response to ministerial aspirants, (I paraphrase) –“do all that you can to avoid full-time ministry. If you do one day find yourself in that role is will only be because God’s invitation and call was unmistakable and unshakable. ”

Lisa writes:

“…A brief introduction is probably in order. My name is Lisa Domke. I live in Seattle with my husband, David, and our four-year-old son. Three years ago I was ordained as a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church, and took a position as an associate pastor in a fairly traditional church with about 200 attending on Sundays. About seventy percent of the members were over 65...many in their 80s or 90s. The focus of the energy in this church went mostly toward congregational care (sickness, surgery, hospitalizations, rest-homes) and maintaining programs valued by the older population. Change of any kind was exceedingly difficult, and I soon discovered that the majority of the congregation held very different ideas about the purpose of the Church. I eventually felt led to leave my position in order to explore what it would look like to live in Christian community in a way that nourishes faith and propels us toward serving others. As my friend Corey puts it, "What would it look like if the benediction/sending was the most important part of our worship gathering…”

Tuesday, 30 January 2007

Paul notes - The synopsis of the 10th Whitley Lecture (UK) given by Sean Winter gives some good insights into how Baptist’s might understand the task of biblical interpretation – and thus the need for Baptist churches to be communities of interpretation (i.e. the interpretative and hermeneutical tasks rest with the whole community of faith, not solely with those called “ministers”). They are thus also participative communities; communities in which all are invited to participate in the faithful, creative, and imaginative practices of living into and out of the Scriptural narrative.

How else can we faithfully add too, enrich and extend God’s unfolding drama within which we have been placed in Christ Jesus?

“The lecture will explore the issue of how Baptists might understand the task of biblical interpretation in the light of their covenantal understanding of the nature of God, God’s relating to the world, and the life of the church. In particular, the lecture will consider how as Baptists we ought to understand the inevitable diversity of biblical interpretation and the consequent disagreements that arise as a result of such diversity. I will argue that the use of the word “biblical” in relation to Baptist identity, denotes not a commitment to a particular interpretive decision about the meaning of scripture, but a commitment to a particular kind of relationship to scripture. Within such a relationship, diversity and disagreement are to be expected and even welcomed as those things which sustain an appropriately covenantal relationship with God via the medium of the text, and with each other.” (HT to Andy Goodliff)

Saturday, 20 January 2007

Paul writes – We won’t be posting for a few days, so I’m going to leave you with this great quote from Paul Tillich. Ian @ Moot (London) recently posted it on their blog. It says a lot, both about our human condition, my human condition, and the wonder of the gift of grace. The irony is, however, that we find it so hard to accept the gift.

Here’s Tillich:

“Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaning-less and empty life. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for-perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades ... Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into the darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: "You are accepted. You are accepted by that which is greater than you…Simply accept that you are accepted! If that happens, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed... and nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral or intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance…”

Paul Tillich

Think also of the final verse of U2’s beautiful song “Grace”:

“…What once was hurtWhat once was frictionWhat left a markNo longer stingsBecause grace makes beautyOut of ugly things…”

Friday, 19 January 2007

Paul writes – I’ve long appreciated Margaret Wheatley’s accompaniment in the variety of leadership roles I’ve had. In many ways she still continues to subvert and upend contemporary leadership and management practices.

I’ve reflected on her statement off and on over the last week or so. It says something important to me about leadership in these present times; leadership in both a business and church sense:

“When you seek to control things, you must manage all the pieces; you must know what is going on everywhere in the organization; you must have job descriptions; you must really have your hands on all these pieces because your function as a leader is to hold it all together…[But] order is inherent in living systems. It is part of what makes things work, with or without us…there is an order that can emerge. And the order is not from telling people what to do. Defining it, writing procedures. The order is inherent, and we need to allow people enormous freedom with the understanding that the principles and the values will order their behaviour. As leaders we really should focus our attention not on how we define behaviours through policies [controls], procedures, [and] organizational designs, but on bedrock principles and values.”

For the transcript of a very interesting interview with Margaret Wheatley, go here. Below is an excerpt:

[Scott]London:: What do you think are some of the critical questions we need to ask during this period of transition?

Thursday, 18 January 2007

Paul writes - George Hunsberger has an interesting article Reflections for a Conversation on Theology in Congregational Life on the GOCN website. Again, some good stimulation and an invitation to engage with him – how do you experience what he says? I resonate with its emphasis on our, i.e. the corporate nature of theologising. It’s something we do together, not just something that leaders do.

But, I would also want to add (to Hunsberger’s reflection) a significant emphasis on how we talk about God, how we discern God’s presence and activity in the everyday. While appreciating the audience and my positive comment above, it (‘theology in congregational life’) still feels too academic (‘theology in the first voice’), too centred on the gathered life of the church (‘theology in the second voice’) to the neglect of its dispersed life. I’m all for developing the big picture, but so often the conversation still feels too far removed from the ordinary and the everyday; the ‘worlds’ within which we seek to live out a Christian faith; within which we seek to embody and bear “good news” with its attendant hope etc.

We need to increasingly and creatively resource theology in the ‘third voice’, i.e. in the everyday realm – working, cooking, study, inviting friends for a BBQ, watching movies, being a part of mum’s groups, recreation and sport, house-purchasing, community involvement, environmental care,etc. This is a huge challenge, but not an insurmountable one. We have allies: Robert Banks, Simon & Brenda Holt, R. Paul Stevensand others.

Excellent books like Practicing Theology edited by Miroslav Volf & Dorothy C. Bass, and Practicing our Faithedited by Dorothy C. Bass also help by giving insight into how to theologically frame our thinking and practice. They weave together Scripture, good interpretive practice, the Christian tradition and a desire to re-shape our imaginations; our ways of imagining what it might look like to embody “gospel”, to live into and out of Scripture in the ordinary and everyday activities of our lives. Simon, mentioned above, has a new book out this year – working title: God Next Door: Spirituality and Mission in the Neighbourhood. Read more about it here. If it’s of the quality of his essays, it should be a very worthwhile read.

Theology is something we all do. Related postshereand here (warning - long post).

Theologian William Cavanaugh, has said that the church needs increasingly to see itself as “God’s body language” – the visible, public presence of God in the everyday world of life and living. And, we need help to do that, help to live the Christian story (Eph 4-6) in response to God who calls (Eph 4:1) and invites.

Wednesday, 17 January 2007

Paul writes – Having recently reflected onshalomI was pleased a few days later to stumble upon this from Ian Morgan Cron’s novel Chasing Francis(with a few qualifiers it’s a book I found enthralling and thus recommend to others, especially those on the edge of church belonging, or particularly those compelled to believe there is more to being church than they are experiencing):

“…’the goal of Francis’ preaching was simple. He wanted people to have shalom, ‘Bernard said.

‘You mean ‘peace’?’ Maggie asked.

‘Yes, but more than peace. Shalom is a deep harmony with the universe,’ Bernard said. ‘When sin entered the world, it ruptured the [fully vulnerable, fully present] friendship we’d once had with God, with other people, with ourselves, with our bodies, and with the environment. Our spiritual, social, psychological, physical, and ecological relationships were fractured. Francis preached a gospel that was holistic. He wanted his hearers to have all the torn dimensions of their lives repaired. Conversion was about being reconciled and restored in every aspect of life. For Francis, that could only happen through the blood of Jesus, living by the words of Scripture and conforming our lives to the gospel…” (p.147).

May Francis and the vision of shalom inspire and accompany me over the course of 2007.

Tuesday, 16 January 2007

“Artistic genius, political activist, painter and decorator, mythic legend or notorious graffiti artist? The work of Banksy is unmistakable, except maybe when it's squatting in the Tate or New York's Metropolitan Museum. Banksy is responsible for decorating the streets, walls, bridges and zoos of towns and cites throughout the world. Witty and subversive, his stencils show monkeys with weapons of mass destruction, policeman with smiley faces, rats with drills and umbrellas. If you look hard enough, you'll find your own. His statements, incitements, ironies and epigrams are by turns intelligent and cheeky comments on everything from the monarchy and capitalism to the war in Iraq and farm animals. His identity remains unknown, but his work is prolific. Here's the best of his work in a fully illustrated colour volume - including brand [new] material.”

Monday, 15 January 2007

Paul writes – David Fitch (& Paul Ricouer) provided a useful starting point for me to reflect (see here (Willow Creek / Trapeze / HT to Len Hjalmarson)on what “liturgy” (i.e. ‘the work of the people’) is trying to do. Good liturgy (and Catholics and Anglicans don’t have a monopoly here – every congregation has a liturgy, whether named as such or not) is always trying to imaginatively and creatively position and orientate us within an ancient story; it is creatively, imaginatively, and faithfully inviting us to “rehearse,” re-narrate, and re-embody that story.

As I read David’s post, and as my mind wandered it struck me again that good liturgy offers what becomes a familiar rhythm, it invites us to en-act this counter-story, to participate while at the same time allowing our own stories (hopefully we’re not encouraged to leave them at the door on our way in) to be re-mixed, and re-formed by this bigger Jesus-shaped one. Good liturgy draws us into an experience of God. It makes space for God. We are repeatedly reminded who God is and who we are. And, good liturgy also carries us when we’re running on empty, when we, for a time, have nothing to give nor any energy to “work”. The liturgical work of others holds us and enfolds us in love.

Good liturgy nourishes us, stimulates us, confronts us, invites us and finally sends us out into the everyday and the ordinary as graced improvisers, story-tellers and actors caught up in our diversity and blown by the Spirit in every direction, and into every conceivable context.

This is one of the real strengths of many emerging or fresh expressions of church; the fact that they are willing to re-evaluate liturgy and where necessary create new liturgies – imaginative and creative ways for people to participate and too share from their own stories and experiences. They are finding ways to do all the things that I’ve said good liturgy should do.

They remind us again and again that the participants in the drama of our gathering together is us! Liturgy is what we do together; it’s predicated on participation; it’s about what we bring and are willing to contribute. Good liturgy does not leave us as spectators; instead it invites us, as we can, to enter into a drama bigger than own individual drama’s. Good liturgy is an important part in our formation as intentional followers of Jesus.

Saturday, 13 January 2007

“In the small, contained world where we live most of the time, we know whom to trust and fear, whom to love and whom to hate. We get it all mapped out into good guys and bad guys, and everything is scheduled and predictable. Jesus’ teachings on loving our enemies are not a little romantic lesson in feeling good about everybody and acting silly.

It is rather a rich, evangelical statement that there is more to life than our capacity to contain it all in our little moral categories. For, says Jesus, if you reduce your life to the simple practice of loving your friends and hating your enemies, of being generous only to those you like and trust, and resistant whenever there is risk, what’s the big deal? Anybody can do that.”

Walter Brueggemann, Taking a Second, Painful Look

Paul writes – I have long valued and appreciated Walter Brueggemann, and no doubt many of you have as well. One thing that has always been a little bit scarce has been biographical background. I was thus delighted to read, yesterday, this piece titled – The Prophet’s Imagination (pdf). I think it dates to 2003.

Friday, 12 January 2007

Paul writes – One of the really interesting things that I’ve read recently said that learningabout other religions is like learning a new language. Other languages don’t replace our own; rather they supplement it, and often in surprising ways they help us discover a new richness, a new depth in our own native language.

In Christian circles, these same things happen when we are willing to supplement our own denominational language and practices with the language and practices of other denomination. I’ve seen it happen in my own life; I’ve seen in happen in church congregations. I’m richer and they’re richer because of a willingness to explore, to enrich and to deepen their own experiences and practices (at Maggi’s suggestion, I've just finished reading Chasing Francis, in which this willingness is a crucial part of the lead characters healing and transformation).

Here’s a good example of crossing the border between religious languages – It’s Jack Kornfield again – this time talking about Buddhist psychology. I hear so many echoes of what we are trying to do in our own formation as Jesus-followers. There’s an overlap of language and wisdom:

Jack Kornfield: The essence of Buddhist psychology is practical and transformative.

It offers a way to understand the heart and mind so that we can be free, authentically compassionate, and happy in the midst of all the things that change in our world. Buddhist psychology provides tools and practices for true happiness in the midst of praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and pain. It is also an old psychology – thousands of years old – so it’s very well developed.